


Into The Free / Becoming Human

by Offbrand_Valk



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: 18 year old Maria has a hard time containing her gay, 2 stories in 1, AU, F/F, Natasha isn't fairing much better, On temporary hiatus :(, Road Trips, or is it?!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-14 10:07:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8009503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Offbrand_Valk/pseuds/Offbrand_Valk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>2 stories running side by side.</p><p>1 follows a young woman named Maria trying to find herself  on the open road, while stumbling through love.</p><p>The other follows a weapon named the Black Widow, and it's struggle with learning to live.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A theater in Wyoming

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah, i've decided i'm going to try to write a BlackHill longfic, which is always a can of worms to open. 
> 
> The 2 stories can be read as either taking place in the same universe, or being entirely separate entities.
> 
> The 2 stories won't take up equal amounts of space, some chapters will focus on Into The Free, some will focus on Becoming Human.
> 
> Anyways, hope you enjoy, comments and critique is of course very much appreciated.

Maria was finally free. After 18 years of a mom that cared more about boxed wine than her, and a deadbeat dad with his deadbeat dogs, she was finally free. 

Her entire life sat in the passenger seat of her shitty Toyota pickup truck, paid for with 2 years of grueling service in a garage. She had left Fort Wayne at 0700, knowing her parents wouldn’t wake up until several hours later. She didn’t owe them a thing, all she had packed, she had paid for. Though truth be told that wasn't a lot. A couple of second hand jeans, some worn down shirts, a duffel bag, a recruitment folder, and a stockpile of jerky and canned beans, was more or less all she had to her name. 

At 1342, she passed the border from New Mexico into Colorado leaving the worlds asshole behind her, hopefully forever. Words couldn’t describe how much she hated that state. She hated Fort Wayne who still hadn’t realized they lost the civil war. She hated her family who thought that the best thing in life was too drain the government of as much welfare as possible. And she hated her high school, who thought boxing, fixing cars, and wanting to join the army made her a dyke. 

It didn’t for the record. She practiced boxing because she needed to fight for herself, she fixed cars because it paid better than flipping burgers, and she wanted to join the army to give back to the country that raised her. No being attracted to women was what made her a dyke. 

She had 2 months to kill before she was required to meet at an army base in eastern Texas for her first day of service. The letter confirming it was lovingly packed in the glove box. She had no plans until then. She had received her diploma yesterday, and spent the rest of the day packing. 

By evening she made a camp in the parking lot of a stripmall. She bought some bread to go with her baked beans, and slept on the seats in her car. Around midnight she was woken up by a security guard telling her to leave. Since she immediately made ready to go, the guard decided she wasn’t a troublemaker, and allowed her to stay so long as she was up before the mall opened. 

Her first week on the road more or less continued like that. 

On the first day of her second week of freedom, Maria decided to indulge herself a little. She had found a small dinner on the road leading to Jackson, Wyoming. She was the only customer in at that time of day, which suited her just fine, she prefered to have her milkshake, burger and fries in peace. 

The waitress bringing Maria her food could, had Maria been the least bit artistically inclined, be described as a rough hewn diamond. Her scarlet hair and slightly curved face, were covered by the thin layer of grime that came with hard work and lackluster washing facilities, a look all too familiar to Maria. Her fingers were long, slender, seductive, and marked by a few strategically placed calluses. And though Maria would violently deny having noticed, she was very gifted in both the front and rear ends. 

In short Maria had fallen face first for the waitress before she had even said a word, and couldn’t get up. 

That itself was not a new experience. Growing up south of nowhere had given her plenty of room to fall in love from afar and subsequently never act on her feelings, lest she be run out of town by an angry, redneck mob. But when the goddess then proceeded to flop down on the chair opposite her, and loudly slurp from a coffee the colour of milk-chocolate, it got to her. 

Most people in her position, would have continued to awkwardly gawk at the gorgeous waitress, until she started the conversation. Maria wasn’t most people. “Hey, I’m Maria.” She said, hand outstretched towards the other girl. It wasn’t a great opening, but considering that Maria’s normal approach to talking with other members of her gender more or less consisted entirely of threats and icy sarcasm, it worked wonderfully. 

The redhead smiled a gentle, yet oddly predatory smile, which turned Maria’s resolve to mush. “Hey Maria, I’m Natalie, is it okay if I spend my break here?” She asked in an accent so bubbly it couldn’t be anything but natural. Maria Hill did not stutter, she was a badass soon-to-be military chick, who wasn’t afraid of anything, least of all pretty ladies. She reminded herself of that before she answered, which was the reason it took her so long. “No it’s fine, I’m not seeing anyone.” Maria was even less smooth than she had imagined, and she hadn’t even meant to be flirtatious. 

If the waitress had noticed the undertones to the brunette’s answer, she didn’t say anything about it, she just sent her a toothy smile. 

They sat in silence, Natalie slurping thin, milky coffee, while Maria tried to enjoy her food (an art she was yet to fully master). Just as Maria lowered her guard, Natalie struck like a cobra! Reaching across the table she snatched a few fries, dunked them in the strawberry milkshake, and shoved them in her mouth, before Maria could utter the first E in a drawn out: “Heeey!” 

“Sorry” The redhead shrugged. “No you’re not.” Maria countered, in a no-nonsense tone, that made Natalie smile. “You’re right, I’m not.” She said, then, after meeting Maria’s nonplussed gaze, she added. “But I’ll trade you. You share your fries now, and I’ll treat you to a movie tonight.” 

“That depends, can you do it without further ruining my milkshake?” Maria was used to confrontational talks with members of her own gender, but this time was different. The friendly teasing was new, but certainly not undesired. Natalie accepted with a long, drawn out “fine”, which Maria’s head instantly scolded her heart for melting over. 

Maria contemplatively slid her fries halfway across the table. She had meant to get back on the road once she had, had her early lunch. Now she wanted to stay and spent more time with Natalie, she might even have to learn the town’s name. 

In the meantime, Natalie happily began eating from the plate, pointedly ignoring the accompanying puddle of ketchup. “This is gonna be great.” She chirped, twirling a French fry like she was in a marching band. “I really need a gal pal” She admitted with a hint of embarrassment before eating her makeshift baton. 

“A what now?” Maria asked, not so much flustered as just confused by Natalie’s strange word choice. “You know, a gal, who’s your pal… Most people around here are either above 40 or below 10.” She explained with a hint of something Maria couldn’t quite decipher in her voice, might have been anger at her dead end job, might have been desperation to meet someone she could relate to. 

Before Maria could wax too poetic, they were disturbed by a coarse voice roaring out from the kitchen. “Natalie you lazy bimbo! Are you on break again?! Come clean the fryer!” Which caused her waitress to shoot up like a bolt of lightning, and with the type of snarky voice normally aimed at Maria yelled back into the kitchen. “I’ve been working since 7 Carl! Why don’t you get off your ass and clean something yourself?” Before she marched into the kitchen, coffee all but forgotten, she flashed Maria a broad, dorky smile. “Meet me outside of this place by 3?... Please.” 

“Of course.” Maria answered without missing a beat, trying to pack all her affection into those 2 words. Causing Natalie to dance her way into the kitchen, stopping just before the door to march the final stretch. 

The town, such as it was, was called Garnet. Though calling it a town didn’t sit quite right with Maria. Fort Wayne was a town, a crappy backwater town that should have been burned to the ground ages ago, but a town nonetheless. Garnet was just a few farms and ranches spread across about 2 miles of rocky nothingness, with what looked to be about 4 houses clustered together as the city center. 

Having restocked at the general store, where the owner seemed to be turning to dust in front of Maria’s eyes, she was left bored, and with 3 more hours until Natalie got off from work. On a whim she decided to go looking for the community center. Not entirely sure if such a thing even existed. 

40 minutes later she had located the Garnet community center, which, despite it's dilapidated appearance, still looked to see semi-regular use. 

Once again Maria couldn’t think of anything to do with her time, and her meeting with the excessively beautiful redhead still seemed ages away. She was half tempted to find a private place to park her car, and rummage through her duffel bag for the couple of scandalous magazines she knew she had stowed away there. Contrary to her brothers, she hadn’t stolen her magazines from Peter. It was a point of pride to her that she had bought them for herself without looking ashamed, 3 counties over, late in the evening. She decided against it for a number of reasons. The mood wasn’t there, she didn’t want to be any less clean than she already was when going back to the diner, and the area surrounding Garnet wasn’t that cluttered. 

Maria met Natalie outside the diner at exactly 1500. After having tried and failed time and time again, to get into a book she had bought at yard sale in Utah about Caesar’s life. 

“Punctual. I like it.” Natalie smiled, as she ran her fingers through her hair, as if she could comb the stench of tobacco and burned oil out. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Maria wanted to slap herself, why did she get so cheesy the moment a pretty girl returned her affection? 

Her stupid phrasing had also embarrassed the waitress, or so it seemed, she was definitely looking at her feet. Maria prepared for the worst when she heard her suck in breath to speak. “This is really awkward, I know I promised to take you to the movies, but i’m sorta banking on you having a car, cause the only nearby theater is all the way over in Marcusville. I’ll pay for gas don’t worry.” 

That just made Maria smile stupidly, it was nice to see her beautiful goddess be human. “It’s no problem, so long as you deal with the tickets, I won’t mind footing the gas.” It wasn’t that Maria didn’t have an opinion on what movie to watch. In fact she was quite clear on what she preffered to watch, but she knew how the rest of her gender felt about action movies, and didn’t want to scare Natalie off. 

She had originally come through Marcusville on her way to Jackson (she was taking the most roundabout possible way from New Mexico to Texas), and was pretty sure she remembered the way. Not that there was a lot to remember about a long straight piece of tarmac, split down the middle by a white line, and flanked by plains on both sides. 

Natalie was the first to break the silence that had come after they had gotten into the car. Maria had thought ahead and cleared the passenger seat of all her junk. “So where are you going?” The brunette pursed her lips at the question, the problem wasn’t that she didn’t have an answer, the problem was she had 2, and couldn’t decide which sounded better. If she said ‘nowhere in particular’, Natalie would think she was a futureless slob, if she said ‘to join the army’, Natalie would think she was a patriotic nutcase. 

In what could only be described as a masterstroke of conversational strategy (if Maria had to say so herself), she turned the question on it’s head and back at Natalie. 

“Where I’m going? Why not where I’m from or something?” There was a bemused smile on Maria face, and she might have noticed Natalie returning it, if she wasn’t making a conscious effort not to look to much at the amazingly attractive girl in the passenger seat. “Well, I guess it’s a philosophical thing, I like to think where we’re going says more about us, than where we come from you know?” 

She couldn’t tell if that navel gazing actually resonated with her, or if she was just so hopelessly enchanted by Natalie that she would agree with anything she said. “I see what you mean. Well for the time being I’m going to Marcusville to watch a movie with my gal pal.” Maria replied, causing her passenger to gently slap her shoulder and call her a tease. 

“Where are _you_ going then?” She asked, forcing herself to tone down the heart-eyes she was no doubt sending Natalie. “Nowhere, I don’t have a truck or anything. So I'm forced to stay in no man’s country working minimum wage.” 

Maria made an affirmative grunt. She knew one obvious solution to Natalie's predicament, but it was probably a bit too early to suggest they ran away together. 

After a few minutes of strange (not awkward, just weird) silence, Natalie spoke. “Can I suggest a deal?” She asked. “You do that a lot don’t you? I mean, make deals?” Maria answered, feeling they were close enough already to have room for a bit of friendly mockery. “It’s pretty much how I made it through my adult life… Anyways, I’ll take that as a yes. How about this: I don’t ask about where you’re going, and you don’t ask me where I come from.” 

Maria frowned. “It’s not like it’s a big secret where I’m going, I just can’t figure out how to say it without sounding like a weirdo. Of course I’ll respect your wish to not talk about your background.” Maria didn’t know, but Natalie was admiring the way Maria hid behind the edge of her plain hair, while she spoke. 

Marcusville looked a lot more like the kind of town Maria was used to, so much so that it kind of scared her. Sure the house to trailer ratio didn’t favor the latter as much as in Fort Wayne. It didn’t matter there was still this dustiness to it, like the town could never be truly clean. 

“I think it’s to the left here.” Natalie said. 

It wasn’t to the left there, neither to the left the next time, or to the right a minute back. 

“You know we could ask for directions.” Natalie said, slumped so far back in the seat, it was practically eating her. Maria really didn’t want to do that. Seeing as Marcusville was more or less just Fort Wayne after a growth spurt, it followed that the people would be even worse than the people of Fort Wayne. “Weren’t you supposed to be local?” Maria countered. “In my defense… Wait, hard right! Here, it’s right here!” Turns out Natalie and Maria understood the words “hard right” slightly different, as they laughingly concluded, having narrowly avoided slamming the toyota into a streetlight. 

Natalie picked a horror movie after Maria repeatedly assured her that she didn’t mind. She didn’t have a lot of opinions about “the arts”, she associated television screens with her parents, only read non-fiction, and her radio more or less found generic rock stations on it’s own by that point. 

The name of the movie was forgotten as soon as they handed in their tickets. It was the 5th or 6th in the series, and might have had the word ‘blood’ somewhere in the title. 

They more or less had the theater to themselves, a small gang of unsupervised kids had managed to get past the lackadaisy teen checking tickets, and were jabbering away on the front row seats while painting their faces with chocolate. A frankly disgusting couple around Maria and Natalie’s age were sitting on the rear most row, and loudly slurping into each others mouth. Which left Maria and her friend stuck in the dead center of the small theater. At least the sound quality was good, as Natalie pointed out. 

About 10 minutes into the movie, Natalie uttered a high pitched scream, and flung herself halfway unto Maria’s chair, holding unto her for dear life, and sending popcorn flying everywhere. The brunette would have tried to soothe her with words, but you weren’t supposed to speak in a theater, and Natalie wasn’t in any real danger, so she made do by holding the strange girl’s hand. 

After a while, Natalie seemingly forgot that she was ever any scared of the movie, though she didn't move back into her seat, in fact she ever so slowly snuck further into Maria’s lap. Maria wasn’t following the movie either, but she was too comfortable to point out that Natalie might enjoy the movie more, if she wasn’t resting her cheek against Maria’s neck. It did make her feel a certain kind of way, as the gorgeous redhead’s hand fumbled around in the dark looking for the popcorn container she threw vaguely in the direction of Maria. She ended up just eating the ones that landed on Maria’s jacket. A jacket Maria was still wearing. 

When they got out of the theater it was raining, because of course it was. Natalie was only wearing jeans and a T-shirt. Thinking quickly Maria took off her mens leather jacket, and spread it out over their heads like a makeshift umbrella. They ran back to the car, both of them laughing the whole way. 

After Natalie had accepted Maria’s help with getting into the car, she said something that send the brunette’s already jumbled emotions into overdrive. “Such a gentleman.” 

3 words made her entirely fall apart without any real reason. She stuttered and fumbled for a reply. “I, um, I guess I do what I can.” Natalie placed her hand comfortingly on top of Maria’s. “And you’re the greatest galpal a girl could wish for because of it." 

Back on the road to Garnet, after the awkwardness had subsided, and the shadows were getting longer, Natalie couldn’t help herself from probing. “So, where are you sleeping? There aren’t any hostels in Garnet.” 

It wasn’t that Maria couldn’t afford staying in hostels, motels, and the odd camping site, seeing how she would in a few months have all her worries covered by uncle Sam, she had be liberal with her spending habits, but at the same time she really did enjoy sleeping in her car. 

“I dunno, in my car probably.” Her answer made Natalie look utterly terrified. “But it’s raining! You’ll get cold!” Maria didn’t worry, her sleeping bag was military surplus, and she was stubborn. “It’s really no problem, I’ve been sleeping in it all week.” Maria feared Natalie’s eyes were going to pop out of their sockets. “All week! But you don’t even have anything to sleep on in here.” 

Maria frowned. “Yes I do, I a have a pillow and a sleeping bag, right here, in my bags… In the trunk.” The rain had not let up since they left the theater, and sleeping in a wet sleeping bag was a fate Maria wouldn’t wish on her worst enemy. 

They were both comically glancing through the rear window at Maria’s not very waterproof bags, they had been so engrossed in each others company that they had forgotten everything about most of Maria’s belonging that had been thrown in the back to make room for the redhead. 

“You know… I have a large bed, we could probably squeeze both of us into it.” There was a mischievous hint to the waitress voice that went entirely over the brunette’s head, since she was too busy trying to think of a way out. “Won’t your parents be angry that you’re bringing a guest over for the night?” Maria had never been that close to a woman she was attracted to, and she did not trust her sleeping self, not to embarrass her waking self. 

“Remember how you agreed not to ask about my past? Well I’m not living with my parents, and besides, it’s not like you’re a boy, we can’t really do anything.” The soon-to-be soldier, was strong willed, no doubt about that, but when faced with the option of sleeping next to a goddess of sin, she could do nought but give in. Would Natalie notice if she leant in to smell those luscious red locks while they slept together? Yes, she certainly would, and it would be weird. 

Natalie’s home was a shed a hop, skip, and a jump from the center of Garnet, and in the corner of a field. A clinically well-kept kitchenette was placed in the left wall, a wardrobe stood against the right, and what could generously be described as a queen-sized mattress was leaning precariously against the back wall. The only even remotely personal touch to the shed, was the hunting rifle hanging between the door and one of the windows, which did nothing to lessen Maria’s crush on the redhead. 

“Welcome to my place, I guess.” Natalie said with her arms outstretched in a nonchalante, welcoming gesture. It took Maria 3 tries to cross the threshold into Natalie. Even when she did manage, she strongly considered leaving her bags outside, so she wouldn’t drag water in. “I’m sorry if this is moving a bit quick to show you my home and all. I just… “ Maria interrupted her. “It’s not that. I’m just not used to seeing other people’s house's from the inside.” 

“Why is that? What about friends from school? Never been to a sleepover?” Natalie asked, as she hung Maria’s jacket on the one spare coat-hook. She sounded almost shocked by the notion that Maria had never gotten to stay up late and paint fingernails, and talk about boys with her galpals. The last thing Maria wanted was for the love of her life to pity her, so she tried to play it cool. “Yeah, that’s kinda how it was. How about we let that be a tale for another time?” 

The change in Natalie’s behavior was instantaneous, you could almost see a tail wagging between her legs. “So you’re saying there’ll be another time?” “Shit!” Maria hadn’t thought it through. It wasn’t just one specific thing she hadn’t thought through, it was everything she should have thought over a second time. She liked Natalie, a lot, and Natalie even seemed to return some of her feelings. But getting stuck in Garnet was the last thing she wanted. 

“Uuuuhm.” Natalie was clearly growing anxious because of the brunette’s striking display of communicative abilities. “Look I don’t want you to get your hopes up. I like you, I really do. But I didn’t spend the last 18 years of my life, escaping 1 dead end town, only to end up in another. I promise I’ll come back. Though I guess that doesn’t mean a lot right now.” 

You could see the air going out of Natalie as she sat down on the solitary chair. “No, I, I understand, there’s nothing for you here. For anyone really.” There was something almost comical to the way Natalie had begun sobbing, it just felt too sudden. Perhaps that was what provoked Maria’s revelation. 

“You could come with me.” 

“Oh, no I couldn’t.” The answer came with a nervous chuckle, it was clear neither of them believed it. 

“Why not? You get to see the country with me, and it’s not like there’s anything here for you!” Maria was maybe laying it on a bit thick, but she really, really, really wanted Natasha to come with her all of a sudden. 

“But i’ll need to pack, and what about food, and a place to sleep. What if I get car sick?” Maria just smiled, she already knew enough about her friend, to tell that she was convinced and just needed the extra push. 

“C’mon babe, you and me against the world, what could go wrong?” 

  


* * *

  


Natalia Alianovna Romanova had tracked her mark to the small Wyoming town of Marcusville. 

It was a good place to lie low, the only people who moved there wanted to either die in peace or avoid responsibilities. 

She had killed the mark in the local theater. The moment the lights had gone down she had stabbed him in the throat, and he had died noiselessly 23 seconds later. 

Wearing latex gloves she had slightly adjusted the position of the corpse, making it look like he had fallen asleep during the movie. She cleaned the knife and slid it back into it’s hidden holster. Then she placed both the latex gloves and the handkerchief in a plastic bag, and hid the plastic bag under some unopened menstrual pads in her handbag. 

During one of the early “intense” scenes, she snuck unnoticedly a row back, and a few seats to the right. Now all she had to do, was pretend to enjoy the movie until they rolled credits, at which point she could walk out quietly with the other moviegoers. 

Based on her surface level investigation of the theater’s management, no one would bother cleaning the showing room before monday at noon. Meaning the corpse would be long cold, and she would be in Ontario on her next assignment, when her deed was discovered. 

She normally didn’t make a habit of hanging around after her mission was completed. But something about Marcusville called out to her. It wasn’t a feeling she had really ever had, a strange longing towards nothing in particular. It was with a certain disappointment she left the town. Perhaps she had just expected the hit to be more difficult? 

The good thing about being self-employed, is that you can have a day off whenever you feel like it. Her client would just have to wait another day or 2 for that prototype, and if they complained, well it wasn’t like she was in it for the money. 

The Black Widow decided that the emotion she was experiencing was lust. It had been more than 9 years since the red room had last made her go through a “session” and without maintenance even the highest quality machinery would eventually begin to degrade. She would have to look for a long term solution at a later date, but for the time being she would make do with treating the symptom. 

Her name was Lena, and she was a pilot on loan from the RAF, Natalia had chosen to pursue her out of all the patrons in the bar, because of her brown, tomboyish hair. 

Neither of them wanted more than a good night, and maybe an encore in the morning if they were feeling for it. The brunette certainly got what she wanted, and though Lena was skilled, enthusiastic and stubborn, the redhead failed to derive any real pleasure from the experience. 

She left Lena’s apartment in the morning, annoyed at how much time she had wasted trying to chase away the gnawing feeling, that had somehow taken root. 

A couple of particularly difficult missions later, and the feeling was all but forgotten, or so Natalia Alianovna Romanova thought. 


	2. The story of Natasha Romanoff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which young Maria is being fluffy with her not-yet-girlfriend, and grown up Natasha is really bad at emotions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small disclaimer: for some reason i remembered Maria and Natasha as being the same age in the MCU, turns out Maria is actually 3 years older than Natasha. This doesn't really play a role in becoming human, but i just wanted to point out that, into the free is written under the assumption that they're both 18

Maria couldn’t decide if she woke up to the best or worst sight of her life. 

In her sleep Maria had managed to tangle herself around Natalie. Their chests were pressed comfortably against each other, with only 2 pieces of thin, sweaty cloth between them. Her head was resting past her crush’s head, using her hair as an improvised second pillow-casing. 

Maria, somewhat panicking, tried to get out of their embrace without waking the redhead, but found herself locked in place by a powerful grasp around her waist. “I was wondering when you’d wake up.” Natalie chuckled, accidentally blowing a bit of air into the brunette’s ear. Maria blushed and tried to sit up. “Aww, I like it when you’re cuddly.” There was a sadness to Natalie’s voice that struck just a tiny bit too deep to be called a jokes. 

The redhead tried a few more times to get Maria back to cuddling, but her will was iron, and she eventually let go off the brunette with the adorable (or badass depending on who you asked) short hair. 

They got dressed with their backs towards each other. Maria opting to go for her least tomboyish shirt, while Natalie more or less threw her entire wardrobe on the floor looking for a pair of pants that didn’t have grease stains or burn marks. 

Natalie tried to teach Maria to help her cook breakfast, but after she nearly gave herself impromptu kidney surgery, while chopping onions, the waitress decided to let her get off with cleaning the dishes. 

Maria ate like she hadn’t seen food in days, she did that a lot around pretty girls. “So…” Natalie said while idly running a teaspoon through her sand colored coffee. “So?” It took Maria longer than she would have liked to finish chewing her mouthful of toast. “I’m guessing you like my cooking.” Now Maria had never been great at reading people, but it was obvious her host had more on her mind. 

“I do, but are you sure there isn’t anything else you want to say?” A barely noticeable shiver went through Natalie’s body. “I was just wondering, when are we, you know, leaving?” Maria shrugged, she hadn’t thought anything about it. She wanted to say “as soon as possible”, but understood Natalie might be more attached to her home, than she had been. “I don’t know. Whenever you’re ready. I figure you probably need to do some packing or something.” Maria didn’t even notice that she was smiling from ear to ear. She had just realized that she was taking an amazingly beautiful redhead with her on her road trip. Her sexually frustrated imagination couldn’t possibly have thought things out better. 

Natalie was smiling stupidly into her toast, then for better or worse, looked up, meeting Maria’s own love-struck smile. They stayed like that for an embarrassingly long time, their smiles growing ever bigger, while Maria gathered her courage to rest her right hand on top of Natalie’s left. They gently rubbed each other’s thumbs, afraid any noise would break the spell. 

Ever her own worst enemy, and with no connections between brain and mouth, Maria suddenly burst out with a: “Wait! What about your job at the diner?” Natalie looked about ready to slap her. “Fuck the diner!” They were both equally taken aback by Natalie’s outcry (Maria didn’t even think Natalie knew any swear words!) “I, uhm, I mean, I’m sure they’ll make do without me.” 

Natalie started packing while Maria cleaned dishes, pans, and utensils. Though they were in opposite ends of the shed, there was a familiar closeness to it. It might have had something to do with the fact that Maria could hit Natalie if she turned around too fast with her arms outstretched (she took it better than Maria would have). 

Hey, I was wondering, do you think we could stop by Denver? I have a few things I don’t want to lug around, and I sort of have the key for a deposit box there. That’s not weird is it?” Maria wouldn’t exactly know what constituted weird, but having a secure place to store your things while you were away made sense to her. “Sure we could, we can go there on our first stop if you want to. And it’s not weird, at least I don’t think it is.” 

After she finished cleaning the kitchen (it doesn’t feel as spotless as last night, no matter how much she scrubs), she helped Natalie pack. The waitress seemed to know what she was doing, she had a moderately large suitcase already filled with the bare essentials. A warm sweater, some t-shirts, some skirts, a second pair of jeans, and a toothbrush. She asked Maria to grab a couple of bras for her, which she didn’t mind. Only, once she got the bras in her hands, it made her uncomfortable, and she couldn’t quite figure out why. There wasn’t any intimacy to it, and it wasn’t like Maria had never touched a bra before. But the fact that it was Natalie’s bra, made her feel like a pervert. Like she was fondling Natalie while she was sleeping. 

“I think mine are bigger.” Came Natalie’s careless voice from the other side of the bed. “Huh?” Maria was too busy analyzing her thoughts to fully comprehend what Natalie had said. “You’re trying to guess whose boobs are bigger right? That’s something girls our age do, isn’t it?” 

As has already been said, Maria wasn’t the greatest case study in what could be considered "normal”, but she was sure that wasn’t something girls of any age actually did. Though she wasn’t sure if she should tell that to Natalie. She had been found out, and the redhead’s misunderstanding of human interaction gave her a convenient out. She was tempted to make some comment about having to use the scientific method, but wasn’t interesting enough to ever go through with those kind of thoughts. 

Actually, no I don’t think that most girls do that. I think I just sort of spaced out while holding your bra.” Natalie’s face didn’t show embarrassment, rather a mix of disappointment and curiosity, as if Maria had just given her some great and annoying revelation. 

They finished packing in record time, not that they weren’t enjoying it, Nat was just very, very efficient. Right as they were about to leave, The smaller girl stopped in the doorway and looked thoughtful. “Would it be weird if I brought the rifle with me.” Maria was over the moon, she didn’t think Natalie could be any more lovely. She had just learned that the way to her heart went through the barrel of a gun. 

Sweetheart, I’m from the south, I would be angry if you didn’t bring it.” Maria of course had a gun of her own, a Glock 19 lying in the glove box. She was pretty sure she wasn’t strictly speaking, allowed to bring the pistol around with her as freely as she did, but she wasn’t going to spend 2 months alone in no-man’s country unarmed. She hoped that carrying it unloaded would afford her a bit of lenience. Maria had always been a bit of a tomboy when it came to toys. 

They were making good time towards Denver, in fact they were within spitting distance of the Colorado border when Maria felt nature’s call. “Hey Natalie is it okay if I pull over by this next truck stop?” The redhead seemed to be spending a lot longer on the question than it should ever merit. 

“Actually, uhm, I’m not sure how to say this, but my name isn’t actually Natalie, it’s Natasha, Natasha Romanoff. My parents were Russians, and it’s a lot easier to get a job when people don’t accuse you of being a communist spy.” Maria could completely understand her position, if she was a little less stubborn she might have tried to make people think she liked boys too. “Well hello Natasha Romanoff, and thank you. I’m honoured that you trust me enough to tell me this.” Natasha blushed, while Maria struggled with the nagging guilt that came with her own secret. 

  


* * *

  


Being deprogrammed was a strange sensation. Bits and pieces of her life flashed through her mind strained to its breaking point. She remembered a lot of strange visions, few of them made any sense, and none of them she could remember a few hours later. At the end of it all she didn’t feel any different. 

She was bored out of her mind. She had made it through deprogramming, which had felt more like waking from a coma, than being born again. Now all she was waiting for was the final psyche evaluations to clear her for active service. 

the team of psychiatrists were certainly taking their time. She had never been allowed to meet them face to face, nor even get their names. They feared a personal element might negatively affect her recovery, she didn’t necessarily disagree. Every few weeks she was given a new diagnosis. Everything from ADD to PTSD. For a few noteworthy days she had even diagnosed with “a horribly mutated version of bulimia. At least Clint was allowed to keep her company for a couple of hours every day. 

Clint “Hawkeye” Barton had been the one who had brought her into S.H.I.E.L.D.’s fold. They had butted heads a few times before that, and initially she thought the man’s fascination with a piece of medieval weaponry was positively absurd, over time she learned to appreciate the value of a specialized skillset. 

One mission had left them both hiding from African mercenaries in a barn, in the least civil part of Sudan. They had gotten to talking while occasionally firing long range warning shots into their attackers. Clint was curious about her motivations, he had figured her as the in it for the money type (he freely admitted to being bad a judge of character). The more he prodded, the more she realized she didn’t really have a reason. The price she charged was far beneath what her skills were actually worth, and the money she didn’t spend on future missions (ie. most of them) went into a Swiss bank account to collect dust. 

Clint had pitched working for S.H.I.E.L.D. as: worse pay, better security. Which certainly seemed like a better prospect to someone doing espionage for “the fun of it”. She wasn’t entirely sold on the S.H.I.E.L.D. cause, but she at least agreed to let them make her an offer. 

then came her meeting with assistant director Nicholas Fury (competent, compassionate, micromanaging, portrays a hard shell, but cares deeply about the people under his command). Director Carter had wanted to talk to her personally, but she was a busy woman, and not as spry as she had been in the early days of the agency. Fury was inspirational. Their talk made her consider the consequences of her action, something she had been conditioned not to since she was 4. 

Clint became something akin to her chaperone when they started “re-socializing” her. It made sense, agent Barton was the only agent she voluntarily opened up to, she didn’t drop her mask entirely, but she allowed herself a measure of truth around him. At first she just ate dinner in the mess hall, when that went better than S.H.I.E.L.D. had expected (apparently at least one of her psychologists, was absolutely adamant she would go into a murderous frenzy the moment she was placed near a crowd of people), they went on to larger things. 

Within days she was having all her meals in the mess hall, and Clint, being the poster boy for disciplinary action, more or less let her roam free within the allotted time frame (which itself had a terrible habit of slipping). She was introduced to Clint’s handler, a man named Phil Coulson (experienced, enthusiastic, nostalgic, often underestimated, potentially homosexual), and one Thursday evening the 2 men took her to a bar on S.H.I.E.L.D.’s tab, to celebrate that she had been declared ready for active service. 

She was practically giddy with excitement, when the time came for her first mission. Coulson personally briefed her. He was the only one they were sure she would take orders from. The mission itself ran painfully smooth, even if it weren’t for the small army of agents circling around her, she would have been in more danger taking a run down to the corner café for coffee. It was nice though, being back into the fray, with the force of a powerful intelligence organization in her back. 

After that she was allowed to roam free around the base. She was given a small personal quarter close to the women’s barracks, and the right to outfit it to personal taste (within reason of course). She ordered a few books, she remembered pretending to have read on 1 ops or another, other than that, the right remained largely unused. Her free time, of which she had much more than she would have liked, was spent either training, reading or when she got bored of those, exploring the base. 

It was on one of her late night walks she met commander Maria C. Hill (comparatively young, independent, loyal to a fault, gay, dislikes talking about her personal life). Their first interaction was polite, and utterly bland. She didn’t like the brunette, she couldn’t explain why, something in her gut just stirred when she looked at her. 

Per Clint’s suggestion she got a new name. The red room had assigned her the name Natalia Alianovna Romanova, which became Natasha Romanoff, a small but significant change. 

With a bit of investigation Natasha discovered that part of commander Hill’s rapid rise through S.H.I.E.L.D.’s ranks was because of the large amount of trust placed upon her by AD Fury. Rumour had it that Fury’s faith in the young brunette, came from certain “private favours” she might be doing him. She initially discarded the idea as thought up by old-guard agents either feeling threatened by another woman in power, or wanting to discredit the (notably non-white) assistant director. It didn’t fit with either of their profiles, no matter which way she turned it. 

But still the nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach continued. She did some digging, then a lot of digging. Either Fury and Hill were treating their affair like a 9th level secret and threat to world security (unlikely), or their friendship was exactly what it seemed like (all but entirely confirmed). Fury had been happily married for 25 years, and while Natasha had been unable to find proof of any meaningful romantic or sexual encounter on Hill’s part in the last 7 years, she retained the belief that the young commander was solely attracted to women. 

She talked to Clint about her annoying feelings surrounding commander Hill. He was being uncharacteristically unhelpful, all he could offer was. “I dunno, Hill can be a mouthful, especially if you get on her bad side” and when pressed: “Maybe you just… need to get a bit away from it, cause all it sounds like you feel about her, is that you know she exists.” She considered discussing the matter with agent Coulson, but he was also friends with the commander, and couldn’t be trusted not to confide in the matter with her. 

Clint didn’t understand. It wasn’t just that Maria Hil existed, it was her presence. How she could walk into a room and demand complete authority without ever having to prove its necessity. How standard hygienic measures made her look casually attractive, in a way that would take Natasha 30 minutes and a well-equipped makeup kit to mimic. She wondered why Maria had chosen to remain celibate for the last 3 odd years, she doubted it was for a lack of offers 

Natasha was making some progress on her feelings for the brunette. She suspected that part of her baseless distrust for the woman, came from her conditioning. The Red Room had encouraged fierce rivalry between their students, and in the field woman were more often obstacles than marks. Had Hill been an enemy, she would have given Natasha a lot of troubles. She was clever, devious, and in a position of power that allowed her to use these traits. She was always on her toes, and with combat experience to back it up, meaning assassination would be difficult and risky. The fact that she was gay, meant there was the possibility of seduction, but it would be a longer operation, with several possible chances for failure. 

Clint and Phil had gotten it into their heads that she needed and/or wanted an apartment away from the base. She hadn’t really bothered arguing over it. She was a professional, she could handle a change in living arrangements. She had done it so many times before. 

The place they had found her was a moderately sized apartment in Little Ukraine, it was private, but defensible. Had just enough windows to allow unhindered escape without making it too easy to spy on her. The apartment was a bit too non-descript for her taste. Not that she had much of an opinion on interior design, but homes were supposed to look like their owners, and a barren house invited suspicion. 

She had takeout for dinner, she wanted to cook something for herself, it had been a long time since she had the chance to really work in a kitchen. It would have been too suspicious. After a move you were supposed to be exhausted, and cooking should be the last thing on your mind. She had the tv turned on while she ate, but didn’t watch it. Then she went through the entire apartment one last time, before going to bed. 

Natasha woke up at a couple minutes to 6 the next morning, she stayed completely still in her bed until exactly 6:15 am. At that point she slowly, methodically, moved out of bed, got cleaned up, and was left with a very difficult question: How did Natasha Romanoff spend her weekends? 

Breakfast would have been an obvious time-sink, but she knew well enough that no store within a reasonable range of her home opened before 8:00 am. She didn’t have a lot of clothes, but she had at least had the foresight to get a hold of some civilian workout clothes, and so she went for a jog. 

Running was a good activity, it gave her a workout, while also allowing her to inconspicuously scout the area. 

At 9:07 am, Clint called to ask her where she was. That confused her, as far as she knew agent Coulson had made absolutely sure that she would get no assignments for the weekend. To make sure she had a chance to unwind, whatever that was supposed to mean. Turned out that Clint had foreseen her boredom (a scary thought), and gotten up “early” to keep her company. 

She spent the rest of the morning on her couch next to Clint watching Saturday morning cartoons and eating cereal. She was more than a little embarrassed to find out how easily the adventures of an animated, anthropomorphic sponge could make her laugh. The other agent assured her it was absolutely okay. 

After Clint had left, she spent some time in front of the mirror making her prominent features less recognizable, then went thrift-shopping. Some throw pillows here, an “artsy” print there, some mismatched mugs and bowls, and voila her apartment had gone from strikingly generic, to anonymously generic. 

Sunday morning Clint called ahead of time to ask if she wanted him to come by. She did, but told him she had plans. Establishing a routine was the easiest way to get caught out, and she couldn’t, allow herself to become dependent on anyone else. Instead she went for another jog. 

Halfway across town and she was finally building up a sweat. When she didn’t feel like running any more, she walked into a hole-in-the-wall coffee shop. Natasha was tempted to buy a big cop of dark roast coffee like she knew commander Hill liked, she decided against that too. The large amount of caffeine would affect the way she responded to danger, twitchiness had its place, but right now awareness was more important. Her breakfast consisted of a very milky latte, and a croissant with jam. 

The afternoon was spent idly pondering the feeling hiding in the pit of her stomach. She had made a conscious effort to avoid the brunette. Without stimulation the feeling had at least lessened a bit. The redhead was, as ever, making no progress on finding out what exactly the feeling meant, when all of a sudden she got an idea. What she needed was a different perspective. 

Natasha tied her hair back in a tight bun, the way Maria usually had her hair, then wiped off her lipstick. She didn’t need to impersonate Hill just get in character. She spent more time in front of the full length mirror, than she did on most real assignments. Somehow she just couldn’t get Hill’s stance right. The problem was that the commander walked with power and grace, yet there was something inherently sexual about her disciplined, almost march-like stride. 

She tried to move her make-up around, to change her clothes, even used some of her temporary hair dye to mimic the commanders charcoal and chocolate coloured hair. It didn’t help. No matter what she did, she always seemed to add this flirtatious, bordering on the fetishistic edge to the commander’s walk, which in reality just wasn’t there. 

She liked being Maria Hill, her power was all her own, not something shaped by the red room, or some other agency. Maria was a part of S.H.I.E.L.D. not because she had to, but because she wanted to be the best she could. Natasha spent most of her evening walking around the apartment, as Maria, trying to imagine how she would spend her day off. 

Along the way she remembered to ponder how ‘she’ felt about the Black Widow. The Black Widow was a risk, but one with great potential if it went right. Both Carter and Fury were sure their investment would pay off, so she had no reason to think otherwise. Of course the Black Widow had an attitude problem, but she was far from the only one at S.H.I.E.L.D. to have, and at least she could follow orders. Which, comically, put her head and shoulders above the likes of Barton. On the personal front, she was attracted to the Black Widow, she had functioning eyes, and the Black Widow was good at what she did. Of course Maria had no intention of doing anything with her attraction. Even disregarding the Black Widow’s no doubt mile-long list of willing suitors, there was no future in it. Her dating some crazed Russian superspy, who didn’t consider intercourse to be properly finished until someone got shot. Yeah, that’d be the day. 

Natasha went to bed as Maria Hill, and got up early the next morning to properly shake the personality. It came off with no real problems, but putting the Natasha Romanoff personality on proved more difficult. She couldn’t get the inflection entirely right, and when she left for work (it felt weird even thinking that phrase) she decide to just add a hint of a Russian accent so she could get on with her day. 

The feeling had changed. Clint had been the first to notice, but as usual he couldn’t phrase it better than. “You seem kinda high-strung around her.” Maybe it was the knowledge that Hill was unlikely to attempt to pursue a relationship with her, it had made the commander a challenge. It wasn’t a cause, just a possible explanation of a symptom. 

A couple of days later, the Black Widow had just suffered through an excruciatingly long and boring debrief, fronted by commander Maria Hill, where Natasha’s only contribution had been: “I arrived 4 hours before the end of the mission, secured the package, then hid in a broken jet engine, until team charlie finished packing and came to pick me up.” It took charlie another hour to explain how it took a top trained military team, with 35 years of experience between them, 4 hours to pack a tent and some comms equipment (as commander Hill put it). 

Natasha was making ready to leave when she heard a sound that still send a chill down her spine: her name being called out in a crowd. “Romanoff! A moment please.” She couldn’t read Hill’s tone. The only thing she could get out of the commander’s statement, was that it wasn’t a suggestion, and that there was a hint of annoyance to it. Neither of which were thing Hill wanted to hide from her. 

What in the world could the commander want to talk to her about? A highly classified mission? No the setting was too informal. Had she done something wrong during the mission? No then it would have been brought up during the debrief. What about the debrief itself? Sure she had been a bit casual in her explanation of events, but that seemed to be a general trend during debriefs, and normally the commander seemed acceptant of the fact that people weren’t as well-spoken after a long mission, as before it. Natasha sat down expectantly. 

”Romanoff, assistant director Fury has made it clear that due to your past, you may have a somewhat skewered understanding of human relationships. Which is why I have tried to ignore your continued targeted personal harassment.” That statement confused Natasha, so much so that she almost showed it on her face. She made do with a single eyebrow raised in challenge. “Explain.” That made Hill’s mask drop, which Natasha took a degree of pride in. “Is this a joke? Romanoff, you’ve been going through my possessions, invaded my personal life, even hacked into S.H.I.E.L.D. databases to read files about my past which you have neither authorization nor reason to ever read. All of this, I might add, you’ve freely admitted to in front of both fellow agent.” 

Hill was angry, and made no attempt at hiding it. Natasha wasn’t sure what she was talking about, but in her defense the curvature of Hill’s lips was rather distracting. “Which is to say nothing about the fact that you’re constantly glaring at me. And now you’ve started… Romanoff are you even listening to me? Christ are you 8 years old?” 

Suddenly it occurred to Natasha what her feeling for Maria was. Intrusive thoughts, Inability to see flaws, unreasonably large focus on their life, and a feeling of lessened control. It was so obvious, how had she not seen it sooner. She was attracted to commander Hill. 

She, Natasha Romanoff, was attracted to another person! Not pretending attraction, not disguised as a person attracted to Maria Hill 

She had to get out, quickly! 

“I’m sorry commander, but I have to go.” It was said way too quickly, and Natasha had no control of her facial expression. All that mattered was that she had to get away right now. 

Hill was having none of it. “Not so fast Romanoff.” The taller woman grabbed unto Natasha’s arm. She was strong, had combat experience, but she was nowhere near the Black Widow’s level. She could do it. Flip her around, head into the table, draw the commander’s service pistol, 2 shots in the head, and her problem would be gone. 

Hill sensed her distress. HILL SENSED HER DISTRESS! She let go off her arm. “Roma- Natasha, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. We need to talk about this. Just, sit down, take your time.” 

Natasha subtly shook off the adrenaline, she could do this. She had once had to quietly flirt with an oil sheik for 30 minutes, without betraying the fact that she was using her handbag to keep pressure on a heavily bleeding hole in her stomach. She could deal with her sudden, and unwanted, emotions. 

The commander was… not frightened, embarrassed maybe? She had lost her temper, and because of Natasha’s reaction, she now saw her as emotionally fragile. Natasha had forcefully lost any semblance of dignity before she reached her teens, and here she had an easy way out. 

She took a moment to collect herself, overdoing the effect for the sake of her audience, then sat back down in the chair. She made sure to add an exhausted tone to her voice, with a bit of luck, she could explain her outburst as post mission stress, rather than being cornered by her crush. “No, I’m sorry commander Hill. I’ve been trying to, make your acquaintance, I think? I’m just, not good at this whole making friends thing. Or rather, I’m really good at it, just not when I’m… me.” 

It was scary how easy it was for her to accidentally tell Maria the truth. 


	3. Tiramisu and Pierogi

Maria refused to be one of those country girls who started gushing the first time she was in the big city, but Denver was really, really, big.

She wasn’t even a real country girl, at best she was white trash.

They arrived in Denver after it had gotten dark, they weren’t exactly sure what time it was, cause the clock in the car had been stuck on 11:37 since 10:22 that morning. 

“So where do you want to sleep?” The redheaded goddess sitting in the passenger seat asked. While Maria was busy admiring the mile-high city (it’s so big! And so clean!), Natasha had been silently admiring the brunette’s reaction.

Maria turned to answer, and was lucky enough to be holding still when she caught the tail end of Natasha’s gaze. “I, uhm, just not anything too expensive.” The redhead grinned in response “Of course not, waiting tables doesn’t really pay for a Hilton suite.” Maria didn’t actually know what the Hilton was, but she could infer from context. Though that was only half the reason she was frowning, she didn’t want Natasha to think she couldn’t take care of herself (and both of them). “I have money of my own you know.” Natasha just put a hand on top of hers, and leaned in close “I’m sure you do.” And that was all there was to say about that, Maria had to focus on trying to keep her heart from bursting out of her chest.

Maria somehow let Natasha talk her into waiting in the car while she went in and asked for a room. The hotel didn’t look fancy. Well Maria couldn’t tell, to her any hotel looked fancy, but this looked to be just at the edge of her price range. Still, Natasha came out of it looking quite pleased with herself. “I got us a room for cheap, we just have to be out before 12 tomorrow… oh, and there’s only one bed, you don’t mind right?”

Maria did mind, having to sleep (and if Natasha’s coy look was anything to go by cuddle) was nothing short of torture. Very sweet torture, which Maria realized she was more than willing to suffer through.

The room was far less cramped than Maria had been expecting. It had its own shower, which Maria was just about to “jokingly” suggest they try out together. Instead Natasha went first, while Maria made the bed, she thought the hotel was supposed to have people do that kind of thing, but what did she know, she was just a girl from a trailer park. 

Maria didn’t think she smelled that bad, but when she told that to Natasha, she looked about ready to throw her into the shower. Maria almost told her to try, there was no way 5’2’’ of feisty redhead could take her, and her 4 years of boxing. In the end she, didn’t want Natasha to think badly of her, and went of her own free will.

After the shower she found Natasha sitting on the bed wearing lacy panties and a t-shirt that did not leave enough up to imagination. She looked at Maria through her unbearably long eyelashes. “Hey.” Maria’s face turned the colour of a stop-sign. “I know it’s early, but do you wanna go to bed now?”

Maria, who had come fully dressed out of the shower, stuttered a reply. She was letting her imagination get the better of her. The drive had just worn out the lithe Russian, nothing strange about that.

Then Natasha began fiddling with the lock of her pants. “C’mon galpal. Don’t stand there looking serious, let’s get to bed.” Natasha was definitely not winking flirtatiously at her, that just wasn’t happening, she wasn’t that lucky.

They climbed into bed together, Maria consciously turning her back to Natasha, to avoid a repeat of that morning’s embarrassment. Natasha it seemed had other ideas. That girl was way too interested in physical contact for Maria’s good.

Natasha placed her lips behind Maria’s ear, and took a gentle hold of Maria’s right hand with her own. “You wanna cuddle a bit before sleep?” She purred into Maria’s ear, and began rubbing her hand up and down the length of Maria’s arms. Maria definitely wanted to cuddle the redhead, but if she cuddled the redhead, she would want to do more, and no matter how much Natasha liked physical contact, that would definitely be a step too far for her.

“No, I, I’m, I’m tired after the long drive I.” She was so close, Maria could feel her pouting into her ear. “Just a little bit, it’ll be fun I promise.” Natasha was clearly not thinking at all about where she was putting her hand. It had somehow made it’s way beneath the fabric of her t-shirt and was slowly creeping upwards. This was how she was going to die, she would have a heart attack, right there in the bed, with the beautiful hands of her beautiful best friend under her shirt.

“I’msorryI’mtiredgoodnight!” Maria yelped as Natasha’s exquisitely cold hands, oh god she needed those hands to touch her skin every second of every day, brushed against the underside of her breast. She completely encased herself in the duvet, and held her arms close to her body, forcing the startled Russian to pull away.

Sleeping like that was awkward… For all of ten minutes, then Natasha made a low sleepy humming sound, that made the American think she’d gone to sleep. Maria allowed herself to relax. Slowly but surely the 2 teenagers nuzzled closer to each other in their sleep. 

It took immense strength of character for Maria not to freak out, when she woke up with Natasha’s arms around her neck, and the redhead purring (purring!) into her pixie cut. Maria had always been her own woman, all she had, she had earned for herself. For some strange reason all that melted away, in the smaller woman’s arms. She could take care of herself, if anything it would be her protecting Natasha. Still Natasha held unto her, like she might at any moment slip out between her fingers.

When Natasha had first told Maria about her safe deposits box, Maria wasn’t sure what to expect, some part of her mind had immediately gone to marble pillars, and men with automatic rifles. The reality of it was much more boring. 

Natasha had guided her halfway across town, taking every shortcut along the way. Maria was happy she had Natasha along to guide her, cause if she hadn’t installed a compass in her dashboard she wouldn’t even know which way north was after that journey. They were somewhere in the industrial district, surrounded by sleek grey concrete houses, and trucks in the process of being loaded and unloaded.

They parked the car at what was either a soap or a chocolate factory. They argued over which it was as they crossed a parking lot and went through a hole in a fence (no reason to take the long way around since it was right there). They came to a long row of garages with red aluminium doors. Natasha stopped outside 1 labelled: 27, and after a bit of wiggling around in her bra produced a key.

The garage contained A LOT of random junk. Maria was about to go in for a closer look, but Natasha’s outstretched hand stopped her. “Don’t. For the sake of both your sanity and your safety.” She smiled mischievously to underline her point.

The redhead carefully balanced her metal suitcase on top of a pair of moving-boxes labeled respectively “Rushman” and “bowties”, then threw the black plastic bag she had made Maria carry into the far corner. On the way out she grabbed a book of a shelf.

The title was written in Cyrillic, and it was the size of a brick. Maria wasn’t sure she wanted to know who would voluntarily subject themselves to a book of that size. “It’s Anna Karenina, it’s a great book if you have the patience for it.” Natasha rapidly flipped through the pages, then stopped about a 3rd of the way through and took out a small stack of dollar bills. “I don’t.” She said straight-faced causing Maria to loudly giggle.

Natasha leant in close to Maria, then, embarrassed, stopped a few centimeters from Maria’s face. Putting the money in her faded pink purse, she hurried back in, placed the book on another shelf than she took it from, and closed the garage door behind her.

“So… what do you want to do next?” 

Against Maria’s better judgement they spend the afternoon shopping. It was more fun than Maria had expected. Though in her defense she had expected it to be about as much fun as the time she fell off the vehicle lift and got an open fracture.

They hadn’t even bought anything, except a soda to share. Just tried on a bunch of clothes, like Natasha had dragged them through one of those teen movies Maria’s class-mates used to go on about. Natasha even managed to force her into a dress. She was surprised to see that she looked good in it, and Natasha’s reaction almost made her buy it. Luckily she remembered in the very last moment that she didn’t wear dresses. Period.

Natasha actually tried buying it for her while she wasn’t looking.

As a compromise Maria let Natasha buy her dinner. Maria had never been to a restaurant that didn’t serve fries with everything. Natasha insisted it was an in all ways average restaurant, but Maria felt like a princess at the ball, and every bit as uncomfortable as she would have been, had she been a princess at a ball. The food was named french things! 

They talked loudly through the entire dinner. The nearby tables glared at them punching each other and chatting. Their waiter just beamed at them like the sun, even after Natasha used a mild bit of violence to force him to “admit” that every man would find Maria attractive. The amount of stubbornness and power hidden in that tiny body, almost made Maria loudly exclaim her undying love for the redhead.

“Where do you want to go next?” Maria had meant to ask earlier, but had gotten sidetracked once Natasha started gushing about ballet. “I think you should pick the next place, after all, I was the one who wanted to go to Denver.” 

Maria wasn’t prepared for that answer. She inquisitively poked the thing Natasha insisted was a cheesecake, even though it didn’t look like a cheesecake and wasn’t named a cheesecake on the menu. Maria didn’t have a plan, that was the point of her roadtrip, when Maria started planning she couldn’t stop again. 

The “cheesecake” tasted of coffee, which was definitely a plus, however it still didn’t make it a cheesecake. ”How would you feel about going camping for a few days?” Maria wasn’t sure where the idea came from, it just popped into her head. “Sure, where though?”

Maria’s mom used to tell her that the truth wants out, Maria considered it the only smart thing she had ever said. “I don’t know, but I have a banged up car, a map, and a lust for adventure.”

Natasha slammed her coffee cup down. “That’s it! If nobody has snatched you up by the time you turn 30, I’ll marry you myself yes I will.”

Maria tried so hard to get the words “why wait” across her lips, all she managed was to spit a bit of not-cheesecake at the Russians brand new navy blue blouse. 

  


* * *

  


The concept of relaxing was still a bit foreign to Natasha. She had talked about it undercover a lot of times. She knew all the classic unthreatening ways to relax: going bra-less, watching bad sitcoms, staying in bed, Natasha had tried them all, none of them worked for her.

If anything they made her feel vulnerable.

Natasha liked Saturday mornings with Clint watching cartoons and eating cereal. But other than that she didn’t have a lot of past-times.

As of late she had taken to climbing up to the roof of her building, on the few evenings she got to spend at home. Natasha would sit on the brick railing with a bottle of water, or a glass of wine depending on her mood, and look out over Little Ukraine.

One of the local cats had taken a liking to her. Natasha had taken to calling it Liho, cause it was a little black demon who clung to her shoulders. The first time the stray kitten got the jump on her, and latched on to the nape of her neck, Natasha nearly threw it off the 4 story building. Which only seemed to endear her more to Liho.

Even though Liho tried to follow her in, Natasha made sure not to let it. She had to establish borders, make sure Liho knew the limits of their relationship. She didn’t feed it, didn’t take it with her, and certainly didn’t worry about it. She wasn’t Liho’s owner, she was just some lady who put up with it jumping unto her, and occasionally scratched its head.

The Budapest mission had gone so far south. Director Carter considered retirement, Clint had to go through 18 hours of surgery, and AD Fury had refused to write a report, beyond the acronym TARFU in big red letters in the middle of the form. In the meantime, commander Hill was running a 1 woman investigation/inquisition through the ranks of S.H.I.E.L.D. to figure out who was responsible for the terrifyingly bad planning and info (so far 1 level 6 had admitted to being a hydra spy, and another 3 agents where in lock-up until the question of their allegiance could be determined). 

Clint had been given a month’s vacation. A whole month! As much fun Natasha had, with the most difficult mission of her life, she was now getting restless. It wasn’t even the paperwork getting her down (though that was certainly part of it), the helicarrier just felt too big.

It was a strange sensation, Natasha knew for a fact the helicarrier was filled to capacity. Yet sitting there in the mess hall, and eating lukewarm porridge, she couldn’t help feel something was amiss. Perhaps it was just the poorly hidden stares from the junior agents that annoyed her.

When commander Hill came marching in, everyone hurried to look busy. She had been on the warpath for days, and no one wanted to be the next to be thrown in the brig. To the collective relief of the mess hall, all Hill did was get a healthy portion of breakfast and a cup of coffee.

Commander Hill sat down opposite Natasha. She hid it well, but the Black Widow could tell she was tired. “You ever heard of Hanlon’s razor Romanoff?” She asked in her casual no-nonsense tone. 

The words did ring a bell, but Natasha couldn’t quite put her finger on where she’d heard it. If Hill was talking about it, it was probably some kind of secret weapon, or an obscenely expensive scientific gizmo that had suddenly made its way unto the black market. “Can’t say I have commander, care to enlighten me.” She hadn’t even meant to answer with pursed lips and fluttering eyelashes, but she was tired, and flirtatious disinterest was her default approach to human interaction.

There was a slight pause in the commander’s speech, not enough to truly be noticeable, but hinting at something. Did she feel awkward about the situation? “It’s a philosophical concept, ‘don’t attribute to malice what can adequately be explained by stupidity’. Following the week I’ve had, I find myself disagreeing with the idea more and more. If nothing else, then because it’s more comforting to think that S.H.I.E.L.D.’s been compromised on a wide scale, than to accept that the average agent really is dumber than a lobotomized donkey.” It didn’t sound like something Hill wouldn’t say, the context wasn’t too strange either, she’d had a rough week and needed to vent, just… “Why are you telling me this?”

Great, just great. Natasha Romanoff, greatest spy in the business, couldn’t think of a subtler way to approach Hill’s sudden friendliness than to outright ask. The commander thoughtfully drank her tar coloured coffee, and momentarily got lost in the pleasure. When she spoke, it was in a slightly hushed tone, low enough to get drowned out by the background chatter, without sounding suspicious. “Coulson asked me to check up on you.” Natasha was thankful for Maria allowing her to retain her hard exterior, though she was undecided on Coulson’s idea to send Maria her way.

Natasha hadn’t confided in anyone about her feelings for Maria, hadn’t wanted to. She didn’t even know what her attraction meant. On the other hand, Coulson was clever, and she had gotten a lot worse at keeping secrets after her deprogramming. 

“Why didn’t he come himself?” Hostility, of course, if she ever had any intention of ingratiating herself with commander Hill, that was definitely the way to go. Maria didn’t let it visibly phase her, few things did. “He wanted to, but he also suffered 2 open fractures, so I thought since you have in the past expressed desire to get to know me, that I might come in his place. I’m sorry if I overstepped my boundaries.” Natasha wasn’t sure if Maria had gone too far, what she did know was that she wanted more of the commander’s company. 

“No I’m okay, just looking forward to next shore leave.” The black widow was surprised to find that she actually meant what she said. She wanted to come home, make mushroom pierogi, and eat them on the roof with a glass of red wine, and Liho by her side.

The longest part of the mission, was the 4 hour train ride from Union Station to Grand Central Station. She’d packed a book to seem inconspicuous, but couldn’t focus on it. Natasha needed to stretch her legs, to run, to do something that wasn’t paperwork or stalking.

She was half-tempted to take a detour by a gym, just to get some of that excess energy out of her system. As it were, she had a stack of fake passports, and more weapons than could be justified in her suitcase, so she thought better of it.

When she came through the door, she first went through the entire apartment from top to bottom to check that nothing was out of place. She had planned to take a shower then go buy the ingredients for pierogi, but never got further than stripping down, before she went for a nap. Pierogi would have to wait until later. Natasha wasn’t used to coming home.

In the Red Room she would rarely see the consequences of a mission, she would be brought out when she was needed, and hurried back to her cell the moment her mission was over. Her 3 daily meals would be brought to her at 5:30, 12:00 and 18:30 like a clockwork, every time by a guard who was scared to look at her.

She woke up to the sound of something tapping on her window. Before she was even fully awake she was taking cover behind her bed with a gun in her hand. Liho had found out she’d come home, and was now bashing it’s little paw against the window and yowling pathetically.

Natasha almost let Liho in, but in the very last moment remembered Liho wasn’t her cat, and it might misunderstand the gesture. As a compromise she hurried to get dressed, and went up to the roof with 2 tins of tuna. Liho went at one of them like an angry tiger, while the Black Widow slowly ate from the other with a fork. 

To no-one’s surprise the cat finished eating before the human. The cat then looked up at its not-owner, with its big accusing eyes. “you’re not getting it rybka, even spiders need to eat once in a while.”

The redhead had clearly been affecting the cat, as it casually strolled with her into the apartment complex. It took 3 tries to get it out, and when Natasha finally managed, she found Liho sleeping right outside her bedroom window.

“No you don’t understand Coulson, I don’t want more leave, I’m fine.”

“I’m sorry Romanoff, orders from the top, nothing either of us have to say is going to change director Carter’s mind.”

Natasha knew where this was going, she had a hard enough time filling a weekend with entertainment, how would she cope with 2 whole week to herself? She needed a hobby.

The black widow was very well read, it was the only past-time madame B had allowed her, and she had quickly managed to fill her home with high-brow literature. She didn’t actually like reading, it was just something she did to, well pass the time. She only enjoyed music as background noise to whatever else she was doing, and television simply couldn’t hold her interest for more than a few minutes at a time. She considered brushing up on her ballet, but that seemed like an easy way to tear open old, poorly healed, wounds.

It was a testament to Natasha’s boredom that she had gone out into public without absolutely having to. While trying to think of a hobby, she had remembered pinball. Pinball was an easy excuse to stay in a bar, without attracting attention. It had become a rarely indulged passion for her over time. in the red room you took what fun you could get.

She came in wearing a sweat-stained flannel shirt, over a washed out band t-shirt, and most of her hair tugged into a beanie. She could make the outfit look attractive, a bit of subtle makeup, a winning smile, some tight jeans, and maybe some thick rimmed glasses to round it off. Instead she had opted for shapeless sweatpants, and a slouched stance. It was as uninviting as she could be bothered to make herself look. If some creep was that desperate to get in her pants, she would just turn them down the direct way.

The bartender was named Priya, and after Natasha had spent 5 hours at the pinball machine and gotten the top 3 scores, she got worried. She made pleasant small talk and bought a midrange beer to get the bartender off her back. It bothered her how easily she had gotten lost in flashing lights and drawn attention to herself, the only reason she didn’t leave the moment “Priya” looked away, was to not seem more strange than she already did.

She stayed for an hour more, not really getting into the game, too busy being uninteresting to onlookers. Feigning anger she lightly kicked the machine and disappeared into the night

Natasha had planned to go back to the bar on Thursday, had the flannel shirt ready and everything. That plan was scrapped when some time around early afternoon Natasha heard a low, pathetic meowl coming from the kitchen.

She went to investigate, and found Liho lying against her window. It wasn’t the first time the kitten had tried charming her way into Natasha’s apartment. Except this time, Liho wasn’t trying to be charming, the cat was in pain. 

Logically, Natasha knew she should just let the cat suffer, or maybe even put it down on the spot, as a mercy. She wouldn’t let the cat in, it wasn’t her cat, just some cat she occasionally fed. Nowhere in their unspoken agreement was there anything about having to care for the other party in their time of need. But Liho was lying their with it’s big brown eyes, and staggered breathing.

Cursing her humanity, Natasha opened the window, swept the cat into her arm, and hurried it to the vet.

Liho had to get surgery, it was a toss up whether she (Natasha could not care less about the gender of her cat, as she told the vets assistant) would survive. The whole time Liho was being operated on, she was talking to Clint over the phone, which was the only reason she didn’t start crying in the waiting room, and/or put someone who didn’t deserve it in a headlock with her thighs.

In hindsight, Natasha wasn’t sure how she ever doubted Liho’s ability to survive getting her stomach cut open. She was after all, not a regular cat, but an evil spirit who just happened to look exactly like a kitten. Nonetheless, Natasha got an earmarking scheduled for Wednesday next week, before she went home to nurture her cat.

She fell asleep on the couch that night holding Liho close to her chest after they had shared most of a chicken pizza. If shared meant that Liho had looked charming, so Natasha picked pieces of chicken of her pizza and handed it to the cat, until it began turning her down.

Her suspicion that Liho was a remarkably clever cat was confirmed when Clint came to check up on her the next day. She had too much fun getting Liho to stop trying to claw out Clint’s eyes to be angry about the uninvited visit.

Clint dubbed Liho a devil cat, which if Natasha didn’t know any better, she’d say the kitten seemed very pleased with.

They spent the afternoon bumming around the house. Clint had brought pastries and Natasha made coffee. They watched Bond movies, Clint told her about his family, Natasha told him about her childhood. They complained about wounds acting up, and incompetent handlers, and for a few hours the topic of Maria Hill was completely of her mind.

When Clint left he invited Natasha to come by “some time” and meet his kids and wife. The only thing that scared her more than that, was her feelings, which came back in full force the moment the archer shut the door behind him.

It hit Natasha like a sack of bricks (which admittedly, she had less experience with than you would think), first Maria’s voice, then her smile, and her piercing blue eyes. No sooner had the image of Maria’s face imprinted on Natasha’s brain, than she was mentally brought back to the gym aboard the helicarrier. Specifically to 1 early morning, where commander Hill had sparred with her, at a time where even the night shift would be looking longingly at their watches. 

Natasha only understood how people found certain body parts sexy on an intellectual level. She understood that certain features were more aesthetically pleasing than others, but going from that to have them invoke lust, had always been a leap Natasha couldn’t quite wrap her head around. That being the case, why then could she not get the thought of Hill’s shapely rear in yoga pants out of her mind.

She double checked all the weapons she had hidden around the apartment, then she got a bottle of vodka from the kitchen. (Absolut, she’d run out of Stolichnaya, and there was no way she was touching the bottle of Grey Goose Coulson had bought her as a housewarming present, except maybe with cast-iron tongs.) Safely entrenched on the sofa with a glass of vodka in one hand, and the remote in the other, she began to ponder.

If ponder could also be construed as intensely watching a “documentary” about the life and times of Madonna, to avoid having to confront one’s own feelings. 

As if on cue Liho jumped into her lap, and began demanding head scratches. Natasha was more than happy to oblige. “What do you think it all means rybka?” As was to be expected, the cat didn’t seem at all invested in what she was saying, Natasha decided to keep talking. “I’m in love with her, I don’t think I’ve ever been in love before.”

She began staring out the window, as if she could see her past through it. “Well there was Anya back in the red room, but I think that was more survival than love.” Natasha shuddered slightly at the memory, feeling the other girls life leave her hands more than 15 years delayed. “God, I can hear madame B. turning over in her grave. Love is for children Natashenka.” The last part was said in an incredibly overdone Russian accent. She was long overdue for some fun at Madame B.’s expense. “Does that make me gay? Of all the men I’ve been with, none of them have been particularly enjoyable encounters. Then again I guess my sample is pretty biased, and the woman I’ve been with hasn’t blown my mind either.”

Natasha had to momentarily let go off Liho’s head to reach over and turn off the television, causing the cat to make a loud disgruntled noise. “You’re right Liho, perhaps I am approaching this the wrong way.” The cat hadn’t actually commented on her musings in any way, being a cat and all, Natasha just felt like she should include her in the conversation. “What would I want out of my hypothetical relationship with Maria? The obvious answer is sex, but truth is, I’m not sure that’s something I need. Then there’s the intimacy aspect, but I think I have that covered in you don’t I rybka? That leaves us with, well having her for these kinds of talks, however I’m managing so well on my own, who’s to say it wouldn’t be a redundancy?” She looked at her glass, it was still 1/3rd full, and emptied it in a quick swig.

“I guess what I’m saying is that logically speaking, I shouldn’t want a romantic relationship with Hill. So why am I here pouring out my heart and soul to my cat?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You thought this fic was abandoned didn't you? Well i'm back with another chapter and only like, 3 weeks after i had planned, sorry real life happened, and is still happening, I'm hoping to have the chapter after this out before Christmas, but no promises this time.
> 
> ps. feel free to come yell at me on tumblr at: http://offbrand-valk.tumblr.com/  
> pps. rybka = little fish, which is an actual term of endearment in Russia (as far as i know)

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to look me up on http://offbrand-valk.tumblr.com/ and tell me to upload the next chapter already.


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